


I See the Light of Dying Worlds

by saltandlimes



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Just a lot of sadness, M/M, Modern AU, Monster Kylo Ren, because we need more of that in our lives, nothing gross though, russian and us politicing, there will be happiness though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-21
Updated: 2016-08-21
Packaged: 2018-08-10 02:00:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7825852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saltandlimes/pseuds/saltandlimes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Once upon a time...</i> General Hux tries his hardest, tries to make up for his mistakes. But there is something better for him than this dull life, this endless grind.</p><p><i>Once upon a time...</i> Kylo Ren leads people astray. But what happens when he finds someone who is already lost?</p>
            </blockquote>





	I See the Light of Dying Worlds

**Author's Note:**

> Now with gorgeous art by [flashedjunks](http://flashedjunks.tumblr.com/) [here](http://flashedjunks.tumblr.com/post/149581126020/what-are-you-doing-he-breathes-except-he-might). Make sure to check out the rest of their incredible work!

There are few places General Armitage Hux hates more than Moscow. Maybe McMurdo. Maybe. It's cold, and dark, and the streets seem to go on forever. Endless rows of Soviet apartment buildings. And it takes him forever on the metro to even make it to the outskirts, to see trees and open plains. 

But here he is, negotiating yet another treaty that will disappear the moment the administration changes, a strange voice of rationality among the shouts of anger. _General Hux believes in non-proliferation? That General Hux?_ And why don't they understand that he's seen the destruction that they could unleash? Why don't they see the tears in his eyes as he stares at ruined villages, shattered lives?

They never have.

And so he wanders the edge of the city in the moments between endless meetings, in the pauses. And he's far out now, too far away from the edge – took the train here, any train, and it didn't matter that it was an _elektrichka_ , traveled at the speed of a slug with a Soviet star on the front, stopping at every little hamlet. Doesn't matter that he is too late to go back, and he'll be stuck here, in the naked forest over night. It's summer. He'll be fine. 

Because at least he's away. 

And so he settles himself under a tree, back against the bowl. Next to a clear pond, water to drink. Pocket full of chocolate and hard pretzels, a bottle of vodka for comfort. No one can find him here, no one can claim him a secret war hawk. No one can talk to him. 

And he drowses off. 

When Hux wakes again, it's night. Dark and dead as only the empty places in this desolate country can be. A town too far away to see, and he doesn't even know what town, something unpronounceable, even to his trained ear. He pulls out his lighter. 

The cigarette hisses in the dark, an indulgence. The wood he's gathered catches easily, and soon he's sitting next to the fire, drags of smoke into his lungs interspersed with sips at the bottle. Alone. 

“It's dangerous to be out this late.”

Hux starts. He didn't hear anyone approach, and was his guard down that low? Did he really not notice someone coming up?

“Who's there?” The language slithers across his tongue – _kto tam?_ – learned intonations just a little slow in a mouth thick with drink. 

“A traveler. A wanderer. And who are you?” Hux shrugs. He's no one. A general who no one listens to anymore. A destroyer. A screaming voice that no one hears. Cassandra, Priam's prophetic daughter. He holds out the bottle of the vodka.

“Lost maybe? Nothing else.”

“Already lost, are you? I'll share your drink then.” A huge shape settles across the fire from him. A hood, an actually cloak wrapped tightly around broad shoulders. Hux passes over the bottle. Long fingers wrap around it. 

“Why are you out here, so late at night?”

“I could ask you the same questions, lost man. Why are you here, where no one comes. Where men lose themselves, never to be found again? Are you here because no one will find you?” Hux sighs. Maybe he's still dreaming. 

“I don't want to be found.” There's a soft chuckle, and the man slides around the fire, closer to Hux. Hux catches a glimpse of dark hair under the hood, a mouth that wraps around the bottle neck. Gleaming teeth that are oddly shaped. 

“Why not? Everyone wants to be found, _everyone_.” Hux shakes his head.

“I don't. Nothing will change, not if I disappeared forever in this empty wood. They'd still drive themselves toward oblivion, and nothing I say will change that.” He's empty inside, and perhaps spilling it out to this man, this wanderer, perhaps that will fill him up. 

The bottle is cold in his hands, neck icy when Hux fits it to his lips. As though it has never touched lips other than his own, as though its been sunk into a well of cold water. The vodka burns down his throat though. 

“I don't know what they expected. I've done terrible things. But I know they were horrible. I know that. And they don't seem to understand. They don't see how it can never happen again. They just bicker about cost and mutual defense, and never see the children's faces as they stare at blasted towns. I'll never make them see.” Hux slams the bottle into the ground. The stranger nods. Pushes back his hood to show a pale face, so white even in the gleam of the firelight. 

“Kylo.” Hux starts. 

“What?”

“That's my name. Kylo. And yours, little lost man?” Hux laughs, bitter. Trust him to run into the one man who hasn't heard his name. Who doesn't hate his face with blinding passion. The one man who won't spit on him in the street out of principle. 

“General Armitage Hux. You've probably heard of me.” Another bitter laugh. “I understand if you want to leave. Wash your mouth, burn away the parts that have shared a drink with me. I would understand.” Kylo quirks an eyebrow.

“Why would I do that?” 

“You don't know who I am?” Kylo shakes his head. 

“It isn't my way to know. I lose, I don't find. And you, there is nothing left to lose.” Hux nods. Kylo is right. Nothing left. And somehow Kylo is closer now, though Hux hasn't seen him move. 

“I like you, lost Hux. You are something special. Unusual. A man who has no way to find.” There's a fingertip tracing down Hux's face, and maybe it's the vodka, but it feels like ice against his skin. Kylo's eyes gleam in the dark. Hux pulls away, just a little, though he can't help wondering what it would be like to lean into that finger. Takes a drag at the bottle. Pulls out another cigarette and offers the pack to Kylo. Kylo shakes his head. 

The hiss of the lighter is loud between them. 

Then he's dragging in smoke as Kylo stares at him. And Hux shouldn't do this, shouldn't have done any of this, but now he's here. And so he purses his lips as he blows smoke, licks around his lips to catch a lingering drop. Watches Kylo's eyes track the movement. 

“Do you like me, man who has no way, no path to find?” He laughs. Such a strange man, this creature crouched next to him in the guttering firelight. 

“I hardly know you.” 

“You could. I might keep you.” And Hux takes another pull on the cigarette as he thinks of that. As he rolls the words over and over in his mind. Smoke curls out of his mouth. 

“Why would you do that? You don't know me either.” He puts out the cigarette next to him, long last exhalation filling the air between them. 

“You are empty. I could fill you up with something better than this.” Kylo waves around them. “I have never met someone already lost. It is something new. It is... special.” His eyes are too bright, pupils oddly empty. Shadows in a perfect face of planes and softness. An image dredged up from the depths of Hux's imagination, from the dark places he finds as he touches himself late at night. 

A hand cups his face. And he can't ignore the ice now, the feel of that dead-cold grasp on his cheek. 

“What are you doing?” He breathes. Except he might mean _what are you?_

“Finding you.” And then there are lips on his. Soft ice sliding across his bones, caressing him. Filling him up. He pushes back, desperate in a rush that overtakes him. Sharp teeth nip into his lip. Too sharp, but Hux doesn't think he cares anymore. Hands running across his shoulders as a huge black shadow looms over him. Fingers that are too long caressing and clenching around his shoulder. He flicks his eyes open to see fog.

Surrounding them. 

Thick on all sides. Encircling him. 

“Do you want to be found, lost Hux? I can make it so no one ever does. I can keep you with me. Make this world nothing but a dream, just a shadow we step into when we please. You are already lost. It would take nothing. I would like to have you with me.” Kylo's eyes gleam brighter as he smiles wide. 

And Hux pulls back. Does he need to be found? Does he need to go back to the men who will never see? Who bicker as land lies blighted forever, ruined by Hux's hand. Who care more for allocations and appropriations than for the sobs of a child at night. The fog swirls around them. 

No.

He does not need to be found. 

Kylo laughs again at his response. Then his lips are pressing to Hux's again. And his arms encircle Hux, shadow as Hux melts apart inside them.

**Author's Note:**

> Of course, I thank [artyaourter](http://artyaourter.tumblr.com/) for all the help and the careful reading.
> 
> In case anyone is interested, Kylo is a blud, a Ukrainian/Russian spirit that confuses people who journey through the woods.


End file.
